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Chapter 2

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Scanning the crowd for a plan, I notice a dirty blonde-haired man in a white button down a few feet away. No wedding ring, no partner. I square up my shoulders and walk up to him.

"Hey there, I'll give you twenty dollars if you take that redhead over there to dance."

He glances in my pointed direction and frowns. "How about I take you?"

I smile, because I haven't been hit on for so long. "How about I give you my number, and in return you smile and wave at her?"

He pulls out his phone. "Deal."

Men. So easy.

I type my old number, hand the phone back to him, and walk away. I didn't lie. By the time I reach the incompatible couple, I have no idea what I'm doing, because I'm too busy thinking about a thousand other things.

"Sorry to interrupt." I sound like I'm about to sell them car insurance.

Both turn to my direction, but for a second, I freeze in his gaze. His eyes are a cutting, rich shade of hazel, draped with abundant, inky lashes.

Imagine those eyes looking up at you when his face is in between your--

"Do you know herrrr?"

The redhead's voice wakes me up like a bucket of water and I'm thankful that she's here. But only a little.

He evaluates me with a curious expression. "I don't think so?"

I turn my attention to her and change my demeanor. "Babe, I've been watching you talk to this aloof potato for the last ten minutes, and I just had to come over and ask. Do you have any idea how gorgeous you are? Why are you wasting your time on someone who can't see that?"

"Excuse meeee, thank youuu, but how is that your business?"

I look behind my shoulder to see Estelle. She waves a cigarette at me, grinning.

Losing this bet is NOT an option.

I turn back to the woman again. "It's none of my business, I know. This is so weird. But let me show you what I mean. Do you see that man over there?"

I point at the one I gave my old number to, who thankfully does as he promised. "That's the type of enthusiasm you deserve! The only man that can't see you as a queen is one that doesn't see himself as a king. Do you not want a king?"

"I'm standing right here, you know that right?" His husky voice murmurs behind me, but I can't lose focus right now, I've got her attention and I'm going in for the kill.

"If a man can't appreciate you with your clothes on, he won't appreciate you without them either. You know what you're going to get? A night with a dead fish who makes you do all the work but takes all the credit."

Her mouth drops open and her eyes widen. "Ugh, you're riiight. It's like so hard to find men nowadaaays, so I end up settliiing."

There's a chuckle behind me, then the woman thanks me and leaves. Did I just win? I look at Estelle who silently applauds. Then I'm brought back to earth when a certain deep voice clears his throat. I turn to face him.

"Ok, I'm sorry if that's how you actually flirt. But we, the public, needed mercy and I was chosen as their savior," I say.

His eyebrows shoot up for a moment before he laughs, and I nearly pass out because the motherfucker has dimples. "I was just trying to keep her company, my best friend is talking to her friend right now, and I didn't want to be disrespectful."

I eye him tentatively. "I hope you're not offended."

He shakes his head slowly with a smile. "Offended is the last thing on my mind right now. What's your name?"

"Oh, I didn't do this whole thing to steal you." I giggle and point over my shoulder. "This was just a mission to destroy cigarettes and shut people up."

"I have no idea what you're talking about, but I really want to hear this story."

My eyes can't resist traveling over him as I back away. "Sorry, I don't care enough to share it."

The moment I turn, I can no longer fake this nonchalance, so I grab Estelle's hand in a death grip and march inside, dragging her onto the dance floor. "What the hell was that?!" She laughs.

"I think I just shat myself." I say. My heart is racing and I'm hot from head to toe.

"Why did you leave him?!"

I smirk. "Because I like to make them work for it."

We stop far in the center, where I close my eyes and focus on the vibrations that coat my skin, the flicker of lights through my lids, and thankfully, the absence of erratic thoughts.

My hips sway side to side, arms lifting over my head. I rock lower on the ground, arching my back and earning cheers from Estelle. Maluma purrs and we start to salsa, twirling and laughing, until somewhere in the middle of it, Estelle gapes at something over my shoulder. I spin around.

The man from earlier appears before me and dips his head to speak over the club noise. His cheek brushes against mine, and his stubble causes my breath to hitch.

"Dance with me."

I pull back with a smile. "Thanks, but I'm fine dancing on my own!"

"Then let me buy you a drink!"

"I don't like alcohol!"

"What do you like then?"

Having a conversation in the middle of a club isn't as easy as movies make it seem, not to mention his proximity is stirring up my nerves.

"What?"

He puts one hand lightly on my waist and dips his head down again. "What do you like?"

I like the way your fingers burn my skin.

"Weed! She likes weed!" Estelle pops behind me, playing the uninvited wingman.

"No, I don't!" I widen my eyes at her, hinting that she needs to shut up.

I'm ignored. "She does!"

"I don't!"

He's smirking. "I think you do!"

"And she has some on her!"

My hands clench into fists. "I-I do not!"

"She does!" She yells and practically shoves me towards him.

He smiles triumphantly and raises an open palm between us. "I don't bite!"

Estelle fans herself, mouthing something inappropriate. I put my hand in his, and am both pleased and intimidated by how tiny it is compared to his hand. He closes his fingers around it and turns around, leading us out.

Keep your cool. Look at his genetic abundance like a miracle of science. You're a professional, this is just a human skeleton with the perfect blend of proportions.

The balcony is more packed than before, but we find an open spot across the door, right by the railing. I grasp the metal and close my eyes to stop my racing thoughts.

"You alright?" he asks.

The neon city lights outline him in the shadows, casting a cinematic glow onto his rugged features. There's a small scar under his brow and subtle lines of crow's feet around his eyes.

The most handsome man is talking to me and it's not in my imagination. I need photographic proof. I should take a picture. No, I MUST take a picture.

He watches me lift up my phone. "What are you doing?" he asks slowly.

"Just immortalizing this rare moment." I say, focused on getting the right angle. "Unless you mind."

He runs his hand through his hair as I snap the photo. "Ok...take one with me."

"Don't be weird." I say, putting my phone away. "I don't even know you."

"You just took one of me!"

I roll my eyes. "Yes, but that's because things like this don't happen to me. I'm doing it for non-weird reasons, unlike you...with your devilish eyes."

"My devilish eyes?" He shakes his head with a crooked smile. "You're too funny."

"Don't have high expectations." I smirk. I pull out the weed pen out of my purse, take the first puff, then offer it to him.

He tilts his head to exhale a thick cloud of smoke, and for a moment I'm so distracted by his protruding Adam's apple and the masculine form of his neck. But then the moment's quickly gone because he lurches forward and coughs, and now I'm laughing.

"Thanks for making that girl leave me, by the way." He says after regaining his composure "She joined my friend and his girl. Think his birthday is about to get spiced up."

I raise my eyebrows. "Oh...so my speech went right over her head, huh."

"She'll be fine. He's not a dead fish and won't make her do all the work." He smirks.

"Should I join them, then?" I smirk.

"I'm afraid you're off limits." He says with a taut, bedroom voice. "I'm Jake."

"Mia."

"Meow?"

"Mia!" I clear my throat, face burning. "It's Mia."

"You sound like you're meowing." He chuckles, voice taunting, teasing. "Maybe I should call you a kitten."

"And you sound like you're talking out of your ass, what should I call you?"

"Alright, don't bite." He laughs.

"No promises." I smile.

We eye each for a moment. "Where are you from, Mia?"

"Armenia."

"Armenia?" His head tilts as his eyebrows rise, and I'm not surprised that he's surprised.

"Yes, and I swear, if you mention the Kardashians..." Hearing him chuckle, I spurt out in a huff. "I'm serious! We're an ancient dot on the globe who survived a genocide, we have chess grandmasters, olympic champions, but people hear 'Armenia' and either don't know what it is or they say 'like the big booty Kardashians?'"

He smiles. "I was just laughing because I don't like the Kardashians either. I'm Persian-Armenian. My family migrated to Iran a couple of generations ago."

"You are? But...you don't have a unibrow, thick chain necklaces, and I'm not going blind from your cologne." I smirk when he gives me a deadpan expression. "I think I have to roast you now. You know, considering our cultures are so similar, yet you guys do everything wrong."

He raises an unimpressed eyebrow, but his voice is playful. "You want to roast me right now?"

"That depends. Do you cry easily?"

"Only every day."

I chuckle and toss my hair behind my shoulder. "I mean, where do I even start..." My smile widens when hearing his snort. "For example, you guys elongate your vowels for no reason. Yeah, you know the DMV sloths from Zootopia? That's what you sound like."

I wave my hand at the speed of a snail while demonstrating their version of a slow ass 'hello.'

"Wow, thanks." He glances away, but his lips twitch.

"And the food!" I cock an eyebrow. "It's our food. But ruined."

"Ruined?"

"Tastes like you stole it, ate it, and vomited it back on the plate."

"That's so rude," he chastises, eyes glimmering with amusement.

I can't stop giggling. "We have this soup? It's barley with yogurt? But you guys add two other soups to it! With freaking beans, chickpeas, lentils and whatnot. What do you call it?"

"Ashareshtah?"

"Asha-what-shtah?" I cover my laughter with my hand. "You've taken my favorite childhood soup and butchered it! It pisses me off!"

He laughs with me. "And that's your thing, everything pisses you guys off!"

"See? That's another one." I point at him, grinning. "You are so insanely nice that you don't even have bad comebacks. You don't stoop to our level."

"Jesus Christ. You're the meanest little thing I've ever met." He shakes his head with a smile and looks away. "I got compared to a dead fish, a sloth, my food was compared to vomit, now I'm being called a pushover..."

"I told you not to have high expectations!"

"The audacity...and she's still laughing!"

"I'm done, I'm sorry..." I plead, eyes watering. "God, I'm such a monster when I'm nervous."

"You're nervous?" He sounds surprised.

I sober up. "What?"

His lips pull into a smirk and he doesn't take his eyes off of me. He reaches his hand to take the pen out of my hand, the tips of his fingers brush mine, and it's ridiculous how much it affects me. He takes another puff and exhales, this time he doesn't cough and looks at me smugly.

"Are you in a relationship?" He asks suddenly.

My eyes widen for a second. "Yup."

I'm not. But after the 'oh, you make me nervous hehehe' moment, I might as well hold a sign with a megaphone and yell 'available for sex! Come grab it while it's hot!"

"What's his name?" He smiles.

"Esteban..."

"Esteban." He repeats sarcastically. "And where is this Esteban?"

I study my fingernails. "He's probably at work..."

There's a moment of silence before he glances away with a smirk playing on his lips. "I should have a word with this guy."

"Why would you do that?"

"To tell him he's an idiot for leaving you by yourself."

"Ok, caveman. I wasn't bought at a market."

He rests his hand on the railing, closer to me. His body heat warms me, sending shivers down my spine. "A woman like you alone on a Friday night? There's no way you have a boyfriend, and if you do, he's a tool for being away from you right now. And you seem far too smart to be with a tool."

My cheeks heat but I push off the railing to step away. "Maybe men like you are the reason I choose to stay single."

His smile only widens. "I doubt that. I think you just haven't met one that's strong enough for you."

I throw my arms in defeat, my voice a pitch higher. "Are you like, immune to my bitch face? I'm being so mean to you right now! Stop laughing? It's not funny!"

"You're just so small. Your anger is freaking adorable."

My nostrils flare. "Excuse me, I'm not adorable. I'm intimidating--

In the middle of that sentence, a drunken group of men spill out and swarm in our direction. My eyes widen, because they're about to take the last inch of breathing space.

Except quick hands settle on my waist, and Jake swiftly positions me against the railing while moving in a protective stance.

Did this guy just claim me as his territory?

~~~ Authors Note ~~~

Sharing you in on a secret...but the constant banter is literally my life with my husband. First night we hung out (which was at a nightclub hehe) he stood behind me on the dance floor like a freaking bodyguard so that no other guy would dance with me. But I think he also knew I'd say no if he asked me to dance, so he just stood there, guarding XD

And also...what's your horoscope sign?